Numbers Don't Lie
by Shelly LeBlanc
Summary: Donatello had an appreciation for numbers, because unlike certain sentient beings, they don't lie. Warning: Angst, implied pending character death.


Title: Numbers Don't Lie  
Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2012 Cartoon)  
Characters: Donatello, Leonardo, others in retrospect  
Pairings: None  
Genre: Angst  
Rating: PG-13 for implied violence  
Word Count: 1k, exactly.  
Summery: Donatello had an appreciation for numbers, because unlike certain sentient beings, they don't lie.  
Author's Note: Angsty, angst angst. I can't get enough of writing angst.

-o-

I take comfort in numbers. Math follows a certain set of rules that are reliable and trustworthy, if one can understand its basic principles. One plus one equals two, two plus two will always be four, and so on and so forth. Of course, it isn't always that simple. The more numbers I add to the equation, and the occasional letter, the harder it gets. But I still understand it. Even if I get the answer wrong on a rare occasion, it wasn't the numbers fault but human, or in this case, turtle error. It doesn't create any falsehoods; it doesn't beat around the bush or create incorrect data. I dislike secrets and dishonesties. They taste like chalk when I try to tell them and they hurt my feelings when I hear them, especially if they are told to me. I appreciate the dependability and honesty that is Math.

Because numbers don't lie.

Unlike April if she says she's not angry or upset, when I can see the flaring of her nostrils or the quiver in her lip. I know that being friends with me, with us, is a hard burden to bear. There have been so many things that have gone wrong in her life since she's met us. I wouldn't trade her friendship for the world, but sometimes, in her deepest crevice of her heart, I think she wishes she could.

Raphael lies all the time. Sure, sometimes his lies are a little bit cruel and are meant inflict a small amount of damage. He cracks on Leonardo's leadership, Mikey's looks, and my (obvious) crush, putting us down in little ways. He wants us to believe he's a bad boy and doesn't care about our feelings, but I know better. Some of the things he says are nasty and they hurt, no lie, but they also are meant to build us up, to allow us to grow thicker skin, to turn us into better turtles. It's neither the healthiest nor the nicest way to do things, but it's the only way Raph knows how. Mostly, though, Raph lies to and about himself. He says he doesn't care, that he could do well without us, without the group. He claims he's not afraid of anything or anybody, but I know better. Raph is scared about a lot of things, and uses his anger and his cruelty to deal with it.

Mikey doesn't so much as lie as he exaggerates. He loves to take a story and drag it out into an impossibly long ordeal, creating twists and turns when none are needed. Raph says he just likes the sound of his voice, to be the center of attention. I don't think it is. Mikey has a well-known fear of the darkness, but I don't think anyone else has caught onto his fear of silence. In silence, he only hears the rushing of his blood and the beat of his own heart and that terrifies him, to hear something he cannot see. It's a hard thing, to be a ninja and to be afraid of two very important aspects of being one. It's why he likes to hang out in my lab, because something is always making noise and that comforts him.

Master Splinter is usually honest and upfront. Being a Ninja Master requires that from him. He cannot send a pupil out into the world without giving them the truth about what they are facing. But he was still a father, and he feels obligated to tell little white lies, such as, "This will only hurt a minute" and "No, the tea is not bitter" or omits information he feels we are not ready to hear, like who Karai really was. Every word he says that is not true is done to help us make us better, or to comfort us, but they are still lies. Master Splinter still doesn't understand that I am much more comforted by truth, no matter how disturbing they are, as opposed to falsehoods done for my benefit.

Leo is the most honest out of all of us, aside from myself. Our oldest brother has the makings of a great leader: noble, patient, and straight-forward. Leo disliked lies as much as I do and wants to know the gritty details, even if they weren't pleasant. It was better to plan and to make decisions if he knew all the facts. It's one of the comforts I have about him; I know exactly where he stands on an issue, even if I don't want to hear it.

To say that Leo has never lied would be a falsehood. Leo has just never lied _well_. Like now.

"It's going to be okay, Donnie," he said, breathlessly. He was using his full upper body strength to press down on my gushing wound. "It's going to be alright."

It wasn't going to be alright. Leo had at least a liter of blood on him. My blood. His hands were slick with it. It was smear all up his arms. His shoulders and chest were splattered with it. His knees and legs were covered with it, from both its pouring out of me and from kneeling in another two liters on the ground. An average human had around five liters of blood in them, about one-eleventh of their body weight. We turtles just had a little bit more, because of our shells and the fact that our veins are larger. So that meant roughly half of my blood was no longer in my body and even thought Leo is doing everything in his power to stop the flow of blood, more was still coming out at a fast rate. Too fast for one turtle to stop.

So, no, everything was not alright. I know, because math doesn't lie. Leo knows it. But he lies anyway.

"Don't worry, I'll stop it. I'll save you."

He's lying to me. What's worse, he's lying to himself.

But for once, I appreciate that.

-o-


End file.
